Who Gives a Starship to a 25 Year Old?
by panicandstartariot
Summary: Five times it sucked to be Starfleet's youngest crew, one time they got away with it, and one time it probably saved them. Someone asked for an exploration of the 'really young' dynamic of the new crew. Turned out to be...kinda crack-y.
1. Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby?

Disclaimer: Not mine. Christmas looms, though, and I believe in a benevolent Santa...

So I was inspired by this kinkmeme prompt, and I stayed up like ALL NIGHT (it's final weeks, btw) writing for it, and around 3:15 I hit critical punchiness and determined that this would not all fit in the Livejournal boxes. So here it be, in seven chapters of madness.

Format is basically a bastardized 5+1: Instead, we have **Five Times It Sucked To Be Starfleet's Youngest Crew, One Time They Got Away With It, and One Time It Probably Saved Their Asses.**

ONE

He gets halfway through the shpiel, Captain James T. Kirk, starship Enterprise, United Federation of Planets, we come in peace, nice minerals you got lying around down there, etc, everything but the secret handshake and decoder rings. He's up to the part about a negotiating party when the big lady-like alien with the blue muumuu and all the bangles coughs strategically.

"Erm- young human – for this arrangement, we will need to discuss with your leader." She says, coming through in a strangely British tone for the universal translator.

"Huh?" says, breaking his diplomat cool.

"The council must make an agreement with the adult of your vessel."

Jim's jaw slides down a little, into full-on slack-jawed-yokel mode, and Spock's right eyebrow rises incrementally until his hairline threatens to devour it whole. Chekov and Sulu are frozen at their controls, and even Uhura has gone dead still.

And, then:

"Young human, is your adult home? I must speak with her."

Jim stalks off the bridge muttering about twenty-fifth birthdays and his mother, at which point Nyota laughs so hard Spock's other eyebrow vanishes into the bowl-cut.

More to come...No, that is not innuendo. Geez.


	2. GQMFs of the Starship Enterprise

Disclaimer: Still own nada.

TWO

They have _fans_.

And not the cute, apple-cheeked eight-year-olds playing 'Starfleet Captain' in cardboard boxes with fishbowls on their heads (though they do have those, being intergalactic heroes and all.) Oh no; they have fan _girls_. And even fan boys, some of whom send such lewd stuff to Uhura that they begin a collection of the funniest on a bulkhead in the rec room. Once a month Spock sits down, and, in a very calculated and quietly furious way, responds to the dozen or so most inappropriate letters with something along the lines of 'I can KILL you with my MIND, never contact my girlfriend again.' The stuff Kirk receives usually has to be burned for legal and hygienic reasons.

The news compares it to the old 20th-century bands, who were greeted with screaming and sobbing girls wherever they went; the first time Enterprise hits Terran spacedock there's a crush of teenagers on the station's main deck, pressed against the windows with big, glittery signs that say things like 'OMG KIRK!' and 'Meld me, Spock!' and 'Scotty's #1 Fan 4Eva!'

"What exactly is a 'G-Q-M-F' and why am I one?" Bones mutters hopelessly.

"What's that say?" Jim wonders, gesturing to a sign bobbing so fast from the owner's movement it's impossible to read.

Spock tilts his head at a precise 30-degree angle. "Curious: 'I know one great thing inwented in Russia.' What does-"

"They want to see me?" Pavel says, breathlessly excited, "They like me too?"

Sulu grabs him around the shoulders and keeps him from vibrating right off the observation deck. "Down, Pavel. You don't want any of that."

"Voice of experience here?" Jim smirks at his helmsman.

Sulu points to a huddle of girls and boys, distinct because of their matching black t-shirts, frenetically pushing against the glass.

"They have a website." He says, "The shirts? They say something about my sword. Those are some scary, disturbed people."

"I think I see a blow-up Nurse Chapel." Uhura notes, staring intently at an amorphous plastic thing which seems to be getting a lot of attention on the upper level of the station.

They all peer at the thing for a moment before Jim makes a horrified noise, backing away from the glass like it'd been coated in acid, and blinks rapidly a couple of times.

"Oh God." Uhura says in a tone of utter shock, "It's an inflatable Kirk."

"What are they doing -?" Pavel begins to ask, but Scotty claps a hand across his mouth and whispers rapidly in his ear, making the boy go red, and, in a scandalized voice, mutter "Is that _sanitary_?"

"Definitely not." Bones squints at the undulating crowd, "Goddamn lot of fool teenagers, someone's gonna get crushed in that mess." Jim suspects his daily grumpiness quotient has been boosted by the wailing herd which sports signs reading 'He's a doctor, not a monk!' and 'I'd Hypo That!'

"It is probable given their level of…excitement." Spock says, in the same tone of reproach he usually reserves for the Captain. Then, almost conversationally, like he's practicing the small talk lessons he's been working on with Uhura, "I have been made aware that a number of them are not here for their personal attractions to the command crew."

Slowly, six heads turn towards him, wearing almost identical expressions of shock and concern.

"I believe these individuals are called shippers." Spock reports, "Intriguingly, there is also a sizable community of 'slashers', many of whom support an imagined relationship between myself and…" one eyebrow lifts, "…you, Captain."

Jim just gapes. Really, they all do, gradually trying to regain brain function from that particular mental image.

"Who could that be?" Sulu says pointedly, in a far-too-loud voice, and they all turn back towards the window. There's a figure emerging from the teeming heart of the crowd, trailing fans like toilet paper stuck to a shoe, and the sheer mass of people makes it impossible to identify them until they round the walkway that connects Enterprise to the space dock- finally a few of the girls fall away, and the jaws collectively drop as- as-

"_Spock?_" Jim gasps in horror, watching several enthusiastic young ladies – and gentlemen – positively melt along the walkway. The elderly Vulcan just meanders along, wearing a smugly satiated expression that just screams "I have gotten laid, laid, laid, from my tippy-toes to my pointy green ears."

"But he's _old._" Chekov says, very quietly, in a sort of confusion, "Is _creepy_."

Their own Spock seems to have fixed his eyes firmly on Uhura's chest, and she winces once at the sight of Spock Prime, then looks directly at her boyfriend and proposes "Sex now?"

"Please." He sort of whimpers, and the two of them duck out within seconds.

The awkward silence left behind is finally broken by Scotty, who wonders aloud, pointing at a banner inside the station "What in the bloody hell's a 'Kink Meme'?"


	3. FML

Disclaimer: Let's see, in last twenty minutes I have acquired...nothing.

THREE

"See the universe, the recruiters said."

"There's a very nice view of the temple complex from this window."

"Be a vital part of diplomatic relations and missions, they said."

"We're establishing relationships."

"Use cutting-edge technology, they promised."

"Well, I don't even know what that thing over there does, it looks like a fusion juice maker…"

"Converse with some of the best minds in the galaxy, they told me."

"This conversation is scintillating, if you'd just stop complaining-"

"Oh, please!" Hikaru snapped at last, "Nyota, we're sitting at the kid's table!"

She looks down the row of chairs of humanoid teenagers and children. Pavel is hopelessly embroiled in some kind of pre-teen girl drama at the far end, with Spock patiently answering the question every time another one of the children asks 'Why?' and bursts into giggles.

She turns her head to see the Captain, awkwardly situated at the high table (only by benefit of his rank), flanked by Scotty and McCoy, both consuming rather vast quantities of the local wine. And she looks down at her own plate. The meat has been cut into small pieces for her.

"I hate my job." Hikaru says, and faceplants into his vegetables.


	4. Teenage Wasteland

Disclaimer: I own precisely 0.00 franchises.

FOUR

It's all normal young people things, really.

Like a natural, hormonal desire for some company. Scotty has theorized that in a pinch, the crew's raging sex drive could probably power the Enterprise. It seems like every other month Spock is Pon-Farring again, and the howls and moans and – holy God, was that a roar, and from who? – emanating from his quarters are inspiring, to say the least. They're twenty-somethings (mostly) and out in the universe and they want to get some action and adventure and, at the end of the day, some nookie. It means a lot of compromising situations, usually kept under wraps, and laughed about later. However, the day Admiral Pike did a ceremonial inspection he had to remark on the Chief Engineer's dedication, servicing both the power relay and the Head Nurse at the same time.

Or their eating habits. The replicators eventually refuse to produce any more Ramen. They just won't do it, no matter what fix Scotty tries and how hard Jim begs, cajoles, and threatens. Uhura theorizes that the ship's developed a sentient consciousness and is trying to save them all from impending cholesterol levels. The odd eating hours of the crew, combined with their strange still-college student tastes, means pizza, Doritos, and Jell-O are in ample supply, yet a good salad is almost impossible to get. Coffee is made in industrial-strength quantities and everyone fears the day the Pop-Tart stash dries up. It's only after Chekov and two other ensigns are discovered shotgunning Red Bulls and eating Kool-Aid powder straight from the jar that there's a ship-wide ban on junk food. Though somehow Bones is still seen with his beloved HoHos on a weekly basis.

They can be kind of petty, too, in a bitchy, teenagery way. Jim draws a line on the wall just outside the bridge, and writes "You must be THIS TALL to take the helm", which leads to Sulu beating the crap out of him the next time they spar. When one of the security officers begins taunting Chekov for his accent in the mess hall, a fight breaks out that sends 14 crewmembers to sickbay, an ungodly amount of spaghetti sauce on to the walls, and Reilly to the brig until he can be calmed down. Spock perfects passive aggression by playing his Vulcan harp at 2:00 in the morning, every morning, until McCoy snaps and starts blasting swamp rock loud enough to send security running. After Jim makes a snarky comment about PMS and bitchy translators, Uhura leads an underground 'Kirkblocking' movement which leaves the Captain high and dry for almost a month (before Rand takes pity on him). And if Scotty hears anyone criticize the engines, their rooms tend to get very cold, their doors tend to open automatically at random intervals, and their uniform refresher tends to spit out a size too small. Not that anyone can prove it was him.

All this, and the campy atmosphere of the re-fitted Enterprise; junior officers share quarters, as does most of the crew; the hall showers are a constant source of pranks and awkward moments, despite the shower curtains intended to lend some privacy; the rec deck puts all their fun in one place, as Jim has said on several occasions, but it's now damn near impossible to get alone time with a pool table, as Uhura has pointed out. Their rooms and living areas are closer together than before (even Security, Engineering, and Medical manage to be close to battle stations but still somehow on 'Dorm Deck'.) Naturally, tensions develop; alliances are formed; pillow fights and roommate-trading are inevitable. Interdepartmental wars erupt with alarming frequency, so much so that when half of Engineering runs through the mess hall covered in blue warpaint and firing their Nerf guns at the Navigation personnel in hot pursuit, Nyota merely asks for Hikaru to pass the salt, please.

Finally, there's the restrictions. A full 19% of the crew are under 25, the Federation's legal age for drinking away from one's home planet. Including their Captain, for the next three months. The 4% of the crew who're 21 and younger can't join a landing party without at least one older officer. And the lone crewmember under 18 is legally out-of-bounds for the next year, despite the advances of a good 35% of the female staff and 9% of the male crew. Mr. Spock keeps careful track of these figures. Because of the CMO's repeated comments about this inconvenient age range, some wiseass at Starfleet Headquarters ships 14 months' worth of _The American Journal of Pediatrics_, a roll of "I'm a Star Patient" stickers, and several boxes of Batman band-aids. Which the Captain promptly commandeers with a gleeful shout of "Look, Bones, BATMAN!", causing Leonard McCoy to conclude he needs more than one drink if he's going to get through today.


	5. The Hero of Starfleet, The Man They Call

Disclaimer: NO.

FIVE

It's three months into the mission when Bones comes into Jim's office, twisting his hands and looking generally uncomfortable.

"Did you screw Uhura?" are the first words out of the Captain's mouth.

Bones looks up guiltily "I need-" then with shock, "Wait, what? What? Hell – Jim, no – What the-"

"Well, you looked like you had something awkward to tell me, and I figured if you'd gone ahead and boinked our resident sultry minx, our resident not-so-jolly Keebler Elf would be out for your blood, and you'd want the protection of our resident Big Damn Hero-"

"Christ, Jim, would you shut up with the superlatives?" Bones sinks into the chair across from Jim, and rubs one hand through his hair. "It's like being captained by my high school yearbook staff."

Captain James T. Kirk, Resident Big Damn Hero, stares him down. And then points to the nameplate on his desk.

"Oh- oh, for Jesus's sake, Jim-" he splutters, "Really? 'His Imperial Saucy-Pants Count Jimmy the Gloriously Endowed?' Seriously?"

"The ensigns in engineering made it for me. They called me a memetic badass, thank you very much."

"Well, excuse the fuck out of me, Captain Saucy-Pants, but your little minions are a bunch of teenage geeks with a hero complex, feeding an ego the size of the Titanic with iceberg sandwiches. And they name their World of Warcraft characters for anyone they think is cool at the moment, it's not just you."

Jim looks honestly taken aback, and Bones sinks back in his chair a bit.

"They made one for you."

"Oh, no, Jim-"

"Paging Doctor Tightass McAngrystab?" Jim says innocently, and there is literally nothing for Bones to do but throw up his hands, stalk out of the Captain's office/dorm room, and storm back to his infirmary, cussing all the way.

He'll send Jim an email about needing to bio-synthesize more acne medication for the crew's rather overwhelming demand later.


	6. It's Always Set to Stun

ONE TIME THEY GOT AWAY WITH IT

Starfleet does not appreciate a good rave.

Even when it is necessary for morale, even when you've gone 3 months without shore leave, even when you missed Halloween celebrations because of a Romulan skirmish, even when anyone your age ought to be out on a Friday night, even when Janice Rand has just gotten her new plastic mini-dress in from the catalogue and has the perfect pair of heels to go with it. Starfleet does not understand or condone raves, as most of its leadership is old enough to regret whatever fun they once had.

It's very, very lucky Spock was able to intercept the communication before it left Enterprise's main database with the daily comms. No one has any idea how he did it, because the last anyone saw of him was at around 0400, when he went staggering off shirtless with Uhura and a Hershey Bar, slurring a Vulcan song (something about progressive logarithms only Chekov was able to join in on.) But they're all immensely grateful, and he spends the next several days rather magnanimously accepting gifts of candy, hand-knitted hats, and flavored condoms (Jim had idea they made those in plomeek. Blueberry, sure, but _plomeek_?!)

They put the print-out of the message on the wall over the pool table in the rec hall, so everyone can read it- after all, most of them have their name somewhere in the text. Admiral Benson was extremely detailed in his report, and most of the crew were obligingly drunk enough by about midnight that they happily gave him their names (along with pinches and propositions.)

_-BEGIN REPORT_

_Personal Log, Adm. T.Q. Dente_

_2000: Completed debriefing w/ Captain Kirk; am on schedule for Janus III & negotiations should begin the day of arrival. Captain was eager to finish some errand, adjourned meeting a bit early. Anticipate no further problems with warp engines. Am pleased to find Enterprise chef knows his way around a vegetable stew. Believe I will retire w/ Russian-translation copy of 'Anna Karenina' loaned to me by Ensign Chem-something, the one who looks like a cocker spaniel._

-

_2030: Darn. Have forgotten much more of high-school Russian class than I thought. Perhaps will see if Captain is up for a game of bridge? Oh, and maybe a mug of warm milk…_

-

_2100: Captain's quarters appear empty. In fact, all of crew quarters seems empty. Skeleton crew on bridge most un-obliging, seem very snotty about something. One Lieutenant Mitchell commented that they were "missing all the fun until Delta shift comes up." Disliked his attitude; remember to make complaint to Captain. Will descend to exercise and recreation deck to continue search. Should be library there, as well?_

_-_

_2130: Loud noises! Cannot discern origin, but definitely above Starfleet regulation decibel levels for recreational music. Can hardly even be described as music: personally, am all for a bit of fun tunes, Simon & Garfunkel or even James Taylor, but music seems to be composed largely of percussion and strange synthesized noise, believe this is called "Space Techno". Have still seen no crew members._

_-_

_2200: Good Galileo! Stepped on bit of debris in corridor, initially thought to be engineering component. Was in fact empty can of 'Heinekein Moonshot' beer. Suspect some crew may have imbibed alcohol outside regulation areas. Took image capture to show Captain, begin investigation with._

_-_

_2230: Was passed by 3 Ensigns in B-hallway, all of whom failed to salute until I cleared my throat rather loudly (twice.) Am feeling rather miffed, as they did not know location of Captain and suggested he might be in crew quarters. Ensign Klein insinuated that Commander Spock was more capable of assisting me. Will report both Klein and Spock to Captain as detrimental to his authority._

_-_

_2300: Have encountered no less than 10 personnel, two of whom have definitely consumed alcohol. Female Orion crewmember pointedly inquired as to whether or not my clusters needed polishing: am pleased that at least one person on this ship understands the importance of regulation dress. Gave her address of my quarters so she could pick up my uniform. Other crew members far less impressive; one Ensign Podolski was carrying an open bag of popcorn through hall, others very rowdy and inattentive. Security cameras should be catching most of these infractions, so was not concerned about obtaining many names. Although, one Lieutenant Commander Cellan behaved most oddly (informed me not to panic and asked where my towel was) before disappearing into the library with a wave and a 'So long, and thanks for all the fish!' Was either intoxicated or horribly mistaken._

_-_

_2330: Am closer to music now. Have witnessed unspeakable disrespect of uniform & vessel in exercise areas & movie hall. Some crew engaged in public displays of affection, including at least six incidences of inappropriate physical contact, in darkened movie hall, which is showing a film called 'Rocky Horror'. At one point entire theater screamed "Group Sex!" in unison & a man I have since identified as Lieutenant Sulu ascended stage in leather corset & 'hot' pants, fishnet stockings, black pumps, & copious amounts of makeup to sing along w/ film about being a transvestite and transsexual. Blatant disregard of regulations concerning public address of sexual orientation, am most disappointed, Sulu seemed v. conservative._

_Also witnessed no fewer than 15 personnel engaged in swim & dive contest in gymnasium pool, wearing non-regulation bathing apparel including revealing bikinis & 'speedos'. Sparring mats being used for 'Roman-style' wrestling contest; numerous female personnel cheered on male crew who appeared to be nude (I averted my eyes for decency's sake) and covered in olive oil. Hot tub filled beyond maximum capacity posted on wall; sauna smells of chocolate & is smeared w/ pudding. Have taken more images to show Captain Kirk & assist in his disciplinary actions._

_-_

_2400: Holy God in Heaven. Camera out of RAM for images._

_-_

_0200: Have finally escaped den of iniquity. Am thoroughly traumatized (which accounts for earlier blasphemy, must remember to strike from final record), tush very bruised from repeated pinchings. Would ask doctor for liniment but when last seen, Doctor McCoy was half-naked and dancing in a very limber manner against a support strut with credits tucked into his waistband. Every time the song playing repeated the lyric 'Jump on it!', the Doctor would begin to spank himself, causing more people to hurl money at him. Nurse Chapel informed me that this is how he got through medical school. (Interesting, as I had never heard of Chippendale's School of Medicine, but perhaps it is in the Northeast?) _

_Either way, was most disturbing, & someone had placed a martini glass high in the Head Nurse's beehive hairdo and many of the crew were attempting to pitch olives into it. A limbo pole had been erected against the far wall & there was some kind of game involving ping-pong balls and cups of alcohol happening nearby. Looked very unsanitary. Identified as 'beer pong'. Lieutenant Riley claimed to be champion, though I seriously doubt this to be real sport. Was groped and propositioned by at least 8 crew members. Room too dark & strobe light moving too fast to ID._

_Main attraction appeared to be dancing to the loud music (intolerable!) in most unseemly manner. Much fraternization between ranks, entirely inappropriate forms of dancing (very suggestive w/ much hip-swivelling.) Could not believe my eyes when I witnessed Lieutenant Uhura and Commander Spock performing very lewd & suggestive 'dance' (loose term, seemed more to me like ungodly form of copulation w/ clothing still on) to a song which seemed to mainly consist of someone singing about her 'milkshake'. Commander Spock was wearing copious amounts of chocolate pudding. Uhura was attired in a very revealing bathing suit which I had to avert my eyes from. Could get no coherent comment out of either officer, besides Uhura displaying her middle finger at me and Commander Spock slurring that he'd teach me, but he'd have to charge. Plan a strongly worded reprimand._

_Saw Chief Engineer on floor near bar; had empty bottle of scotch and Ensign Chekov in his lap. Poor child looked terrified, was squirming quite frantically. Pulled him away, only to be set upon by furious, drunken Scotchman, who instructed me to perform an act which I cannot repeat here, but to say that it is anatomically impossible for anyone with less than 3 arms and double-jointed neck. Managed to evade him (Scott was distracted by the next song, Scottish people spelling out 'Saturday Night') and pull Ensign Chekov to the side. He seemed to be the only sober crewmember on deck._

_I inquired if he knew where the Captain was. He produced a large flask which read 'Smirnoff' from somewhere (I have no idea, as he was clad only in uniform pants, go-go boots, and a U.K. flag painted onto his chest), proceeded to down half of it in one gulp (it must have been water, no one can drink vodka like that), and informed me that he knew exactly where the Captain was. At last, someone had proved to be knowledgeable. It was good that bottle contained water, I would have hated to write up such an innocent, fresh-faced youngster. At that point Scott passed by in a conga line, screamed out "I f***in' love the Bay City Rollers!", and tripped over a very short alien crewman. Other crewmembers dragged him back into their dance line and he disappeared from my sight._

_Ensign Chekov pointed me towards the center of the dance floor, where I presumed the Captain was trying to discourage this insanity. A member of the security team passed by, one Crewman Jacob Halley, who was covered in frosting and sprinkles and inviting people to lick his 'Cupcake'. Am not sure if this is related to previous 'milkshake' madness. The music stopped for a moment, and I was sure the Captain had regained control of his ship at last, but then a strange voice began to sing in a language I did not recognize (Note: look up meaning of 'Numa-Numa' in ship database, perhaps Czech?) and Ensign Chekov became very excited. He shouted "I can do this!" several times, and plunged into the midst of the dance floor, along with many of the other crew members. I have never seen a young man dance with such enthusiasm, unless that was an epileptic seizure. Last I saw he was being passed over the heads of the crowd and swigging from his Smirnoff bottle, and had lost his pants. I fear for the boy's safety._

_The worst, however, came once I was able to make it to the center of the dance floor. I spotted the Captain's head once or twice in the milieu, and it seemed as though he was speaking sternly to several female crew members. I had hoped him to be reprimanding such behavior. It took me over two dozen incidences of clearing my throat at personnel to make it to the Captain. Most unacceptable. All names are listed in the appendices of this report for formal reprimand. Most of those personnel were also engaged in 'grinding' behavior on the dance floor, though Crewman Rand was performing an admirable Lindy-Hop (admittedly, she was doing so wrapped in cellophane.)_

_Almost as soon as I had reached the Captain, though, I found a most distressing sight; he was nude but for a pair of Starfleet-issue briefs, sunglasses, and a cowboy hat, and had smears of chocolate pudding on his face, which were being enthusiastically licked off by female and male personnel. Of LESSER rank. I was shocked and horrified. He had the words "It's ALWAYS set to stun!" above a downward-pointing arrow, written in permanent marker on his chest. Was most confused._

_At that moment, a loud voice announced 'we're gonna get funky'. The voice then instructed to 'clap your hands'. The crew did so in perfect unison. They proceeded to follow every instruction the voice provided, behaving complete synchronicity, from jumping to the left and right, to hopping and stamping their feet. I could do little but watch in horror as their cultish ritual continued._

_When Captain Kirk began to 'cha-cha' against my back, and whispered something about the sauna, a Snickers bar, and Russian jailbait in my ear, I fled. _

_-_

_0230: Am safely in my quarters now. Will endeavor to compile a full list of crew in violation of regulations, but will be several hours before I complete my report. I suspect some of this behavior may involve some kind of religious or drug-involved cult with the voice instructing the crew how to dance, but am unsure. Could have been the chocolate pudding, which seemed to be everywhere, but particularly around the Vulcan Science Officer. Could be political plot to disable Fleet._

_Have locked door against further advances by Orion crewmember. Did NOT want to polish my Admiral's clusters, though I provided buffing rag and silver polish. Have no idea how confusion resulted._

_USS Enterprise clearly a ship captained by a madman and crewed by the damned._

- END REPORT

On the print-out, after 'damned' someone had scribbled 'sexy' and taped up a photo of McCoy twirling with abandon around his pole, waistband stuffed with credits. Scotty was passed out on the floor behind him cradling a soccer ball and Keenser, Chekov was sitting on Jim's shoulders doing the YMCA, the Captain was flicking M&Ms at Spock while Uhura danced with Sulu, and 'Cupcake' Halley limboed under Rand's legs. The crew of the Enterprise, to this day, consider it their crowning achievement in the art of rave. After all, when Manchester United wins the Galactic Football Tournament, you do not just have a quiet drink around the bar and go to bed.

Starfleet records indicate only that Admiral Dente reached Janus III on time and declined Federation transport home after his diplomatic mission.

Admiral Archer keeps the unrevised draft he received at 0300 from a paranoid Tom Dente, because he can't read it without laughing aloud. Besides, if he ever needs to put that brash little Jim Kirk in his place…_"It's ALWAYS set to stun!"_ Christ. Was he ever that young?


	7. All Nighters

Disclaimer: YES! YES! ALL MINE! Huh? Er....Sorry, Mr. JJ, sir, won't happen again...

AND ONE TIME IT PROBABLY SAVED THEM

It's the night McCoy finally diagnoses Chekov's painful rash and high fever as measles, old-Earth style measles, and though it's almost midnight Jim is still up, worried and tired. He's been writing a draft of the letter he doesn't want to send, and hating that it would be the first one he ever wrote as this ship's Captain.

"It's better that he's got it young, Jim." Bones tells him in a low voice, leaning against the far wall of his office. "If he was just a couple years older, the encephalitis could've killed him before I figured this damn thing out."

"Encephalitis-?"

"Brain inflammation, common complication with adults. It comes on fast, and I wasn't looking for it – Jesus, he's lucky M'Benga recognized the Koplik spots on his cheek. It probably means those colonists down on Telos III are carriers. Damn primitive medicine…" He rubs one hand wearily across his eyes. It's been four days since their navigator started running a fever he couldn't knock out, two since Bones has slept. For a while he thought the coughing and sneezing and fever might be some deadly alien pathogen that he was going to have to discover in a post-mortem.

"Measles is really contagious, right?" Jim vaguely remembers from old history classes, but the disease was supposed to be extinct nowadays, so rare that vaccinations were hardly ever administered. In fact, the medical database contains only a paragraph on the subject, and the virus map hadn't even been programmed into the ship's computers for identification, which was why it took this long to diagnose Chekov in the first place.

"Yeah, I've got Spock synthesizing the antibodies now and I'll be dosing the crew tomorrow morning. I've already put out an alert to avoid sexual contact or sharing food, and anyone with a cough or runny nose should be reporting to Sickbay now so I can head it off. Scotty's replicating me some Vitamin A tablets to hand out, try and boost people's immune systems until the vaccine takes effect."

Jim leans back in his chair, mentally going over what he needs to do to make sure they don't fall apart if the measles spreads. Duty rosters, med-checks, shift adjustments, quarantine rooms – "How sick is Chekov?"

"Pretty bad, but stable. I mean, he's uncomfortable as hell, and his temperature's all over the place. Sulu's with him until I can inoculate the nurses."

"Sulu's already immune?"

Bones gives him a wan smile. "Had me give him the available vaccine this afternoon with a booster to make it work faster. He's been translating." At this, Jim cocks an inquisitive eyebrow and the doctor explains "Pavel's fever is up to 40 Celsius, he's delirious. Maybe one out of every twenty words is in English at this point, so Sulu's talking to him and keeping us updated. Chapel thinks it's adorable." He adds with a snort of disdain.

Over the next few hours, Jim marvels at the efficiency with which the medical staff immunizes the crew, the responsibility of officers who walk into Sickbay 'just in case' their sneezes are something more than the dry air, and the energy of his bridge team, compensating for their absent helmsmen. They get by on hastily-warmed soup, and strong coffee, and the occasional Pop-Tart from the emergency stash. He's quietly pleased at how Sulu refuses to leave his friend's bedside, and surprised by Spock's arrival with some kind of Vulcan lotion that soothes the painful rash enough for Chekov to sleep. And even when the kid develops a bad ear infection, apparently a common complication with juvenile cases, he's reminded by Bones that it could've gone so much worse if he was really post-pubescent – corneal scarring, or encephalitis, or pneumonia.

The fact that they practically live in dorms, and measles is airborne with a 90% communicability rate, means they get another fifteen cases before the week is out, wreaking havoc with the duty roster. Thing is, they're all from the Ensigns' barracks, and they're all under 21, and McCoy is thanking whatever gods are out there that it wasn't the older staff. Jim realizes that if they'd been any normal starship crew, they might've had actual deaths – even for all their technology, they still can't cure measles, just treat the symptoms – and that somehow, they've finally caught a break.

"They're really young." He says, looking through a window into the darkened quarantine room. Sulu is talking quietly to Chekov, and Chapel is moving efficiently from patient to patient with more of that funky blue lotion, and the row of gangly, tired, feverish ensigns just look like children put down for a nap.

"We're all really young." McCoy reminds him, letting himself see a twenty-five-year-old kid with a starship full of responsibilities, an ego the size of the Laurentian system, and enough vulnerability to let his best friend give him a hug on a late night in Sickbay.

"But we're okay." he says into Bones' shoulder, squeezing tight and looking for reassurance.

McCoy tightens his grip. "Yeah, Jim." Because so long as they've got this strange, brilliant, determined crew together, age doesn't mean a damn thing.

And that is all. Hope ya got a few laughs.


End file.
